The Fly on the Wall
by Cleo the Muse
Summary: Pseudo companion piece to Sorrel Rowan's A Fine Milky Way Morning. Jack gets Daniel's report on the events of Prometheus Unbound.


**The Fly on the Wall** by Cleo the Muse  
Rating: All Ages  
Genre: General, Humor, Missing Scene/Epilogue  
Warnings: Only if houseflies squick you  
Episodes: "Prometheus Unbound" with a few very very _very_ vague mentions of the movie, "1969", and "Gemini".  
Synopsis: Pseudo-companion piece to Sorrel Rowan's "A Fine Milky Way Morning". Jack gets Daniel's report on the events of "Prometheus Unbound".  
Status: Completed as of January 29, 2007

* * *

**The Fly on the Wall**

"Magnified one thousand times, the insect  
Looks farcically human; laugh if you will!"  
-- Robert Graves, "The Blue Fly"

The Fly-on-the-Wall-in-the-General's-Office had a great view of the comings and goings of base personnel as they visited the commander of the SGC. The most frequently appearing individual other than Jack O'Neill himself was the human known as Sergeant Walter Harriman, whom The Fly--the preferred short-form of his name--liked because he had twin-faceted eyes, rather than the paltry singular orbs most humans had. He'd heard rumors that certain females of their species had optical membranes on the opposite sides of their craniums, but had thusfar seen no evidence of such.

In his short time overseeing this office, The Fly had borne witness to many unusual conversations, from discussions about science fiction shows and movies--which reminded him to find an unattended computer and look up "Jeff Goldblum" sometime--to missions to other planets which only _sounded_ like science fiction. The Fly himself had long gazed out of the briefing room windows at the mesmerizing blue light of what the humans called a "Stargate". If he'd been a braver fly, he might have considered approaching that light one day, possibly making himself the first interplanetary explorer in known fly history.

The Fly was hardly the first of his kind to watch over the goings-on within the confines of the briefing room and general's office. Stories had been passed down for generations about the many events which had taken place within these walls. There had been other humans to hold this office, but all The Fly had known had been Brigadier General Jack O'Neill.

Sadly, The Fly's tenure as Fly-on-the-Wall-in-the-General's-Office had been greatly uneventful. His father had been blessed to see many unusual sights, such as the return of the legendary George Hammond, who had last presided over this office nearly a hundred generations ago. His arrival had precipitated the departure of the aforementioned Walter, plus another twin-faceted human named Doctor Daniel Jackson. Near the end of his father's days, there'd been some sort of fuss about some "bugs" off-world--so maybe The Fly _wouldn't_ be the first interplanetary explorer in known fly history.

But now it was The Fly's watch, and all he'd witnessed to date was rather mundane: team assignments, follow-up visit schedules, and innumerable supply requisitions. Slipping into the briefing room was only slightly less boring, as the various SG-units reported the results of their reconnaissance missions and mineral surveys. The only relief to all this tedium was the many interesting conversations the good general had... with himself.

Legend had it that a thousand generations ago, a human named General Woodrow West (not to be confused with Woodrow, West _Virginia_) had the tendency to read all his reports aloud. Since the Muscidae family did not possess the best vision, a fly would have to take his chances on getting swatted if he got close enough to read the reports for himself. Jack didn't _always_ vocalize the documents before him, but the times he did, The Fly enjoyed it.

Take today, for example. Jack had been smiling and muttering to himself all morning, especially after returning from what he'd told Walter was a "visit to the returning champion". The Fly could only guess he was referring to the other twin-faceted man, Daniel. Then, shortly before the time of the day when Jack normally left the room and returned with delicious smells on his breath, Walter entered the room carrying a folder.

"It's Doctor Jackson's report, sir," he said.

"The coward couldn't deliver it himself, eh?"

"Sir?"

Jack waved a hand. "Nevermind, Walter. Get back to that sensor... panel... thingy." The door shut again, and the general turned to the folder. "Let's see what trouble you got into, Danny-boy..."

Within moments, the general was snorting to himself. "Slipped past SG-3? Reynolds is _so_ going to hear about that... Sent to the engine room... Fired a zat? Shoulda known then it wasn't a Super Soldier: they shoot first and... well, that's pretty much it."

He flipped the page and resumed scanning the next one. "Cleared the entire ship? George should be ashamed of himself... Smart thinking to grab some heavier weaponry... Two shots? Should have run... Ouch, zatted."

The Fly knew many of these terms, thanks to other reports, and was really beginning to picture this scenario. He rubbed his forelegs together in sympathy for the plight of the twin-faceted one.

"Woke up tied to the command chair? Tried to reason with the drone--well, of _course_ you did, that's what you do... propositioned by the soldier, who then revealed--propositioned?" Jack dropped the files on the table and coughed, grabbing for the mug of liquid he kept on the corner of his desk. A swallow later, he chuckled to himself. "I can just picture you staring in horror at the Codpiece of Doom! I would have been scared, too, come to think of it... that thing's _huge_!"

He grabbed the report again. "...Revealed herself as a woman. Revealed _how_ much? You sly dog, you... Took off her armor?" The papers were released again. "You said she was _wearing_ the armor! I am _so_ going to make sure you never forget this!"

"Is everything all right in there, sir?" Walter called from the other room.

"Just fine, Walter!" Jack resumed his reading. "Oh, wait, still wearing the body suit... I'm sure that looked pretty hot... should have known better than to mouth off... you learned that from me, ya know... Talking to herself? Whoa, that's a bad sign. What _is_ it with you and the crazy ones? You shouldn't have…jeeze-louise! Shot you in the arm?! Forget to mention that to Doctor Brightman, did we? Oh, she healed it with a Goa'uld device... must have been a Goa'uld host... former host, whatever... what _is_ it with you and snaky women? Oh, smart move, getting your ties cut... and what was up with _that_, anyway? She into a little bondage games? Grabbed the zat, way to go..."

The phone rang, and he grabbed the handset. "Why, _yes_, Daniel. I'm reading it right now, as a matter of fact. Uh-huh. Yeah, really interesting stuff. Look, I'm getting to the good part, she just kicked the zat out of your hand and... you punched her? Such a gentleman. Tell you what, I'll meet you for lunch in the mess in about ten minutes. Yeah. No, you're not squirming your way out of this one. Yep. See ya then, Danny."

Jack resumed reading, and The Fly decided it was safe to move to the ceiling above the desk so he could hear better. "Okay, I am _so_ pulling up security footage from the _Prometheus_. Something tells me you're not giving me a blow-by-blow... she _kissed_ you? Snogged you right there on the floor, then head-butted you? Oh, not unconscious, just pretending to be... I guess the suit didn't cover her head or hands, hmm?"

He cleared his throat and turned to the next page. "Removed the suit and... Daniel, you_ dog!_ You really did have a chance to see if she was hot, you sneaky devil! Of course, I'm sure she would have done the same in your place... I swear, if you had any clue, you'd carry a stick to beat 'em off ya. Now... where was I? Oh, yeah... Couldn't turn the ship around... Woke up in the cell... Fed her dinner? Any candlelight or romantic music? Guess not... Former host... Tok'ra? I'm sure they only freed her out of the kindness of their tiny little hearts... Do snakes even _have_ hearts? Rescue her people? Please tell me you didn't buy into any of that crap... Good, put her right back in the cell."

Once again, he was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. "What? _Yes_, Daniel, I'll be there in five minutes. It's not that I read that slowly, I'm just savoring every word. Yep. By the way, what was next? Were you going to the movies after dinner or... Hello?" He glared at the phone. "He hung up on me!"

Instead of returning the handset to its cradle, though, Jack punched a button. "Walter? Get me the security footage from the _Prometheus_ on Friday. The bridge, brig, and... engine room. Yep. Thanks!"

Grinning to himself, Jack resumed his reading, giving The Fly more pieces to fill in on what sounded like a bizarre human mating ritual, but was apparently actually a serious matter. Jack didn't seem to be taking it so seriously, though. "Oh, no, Danny, you shouldn't have gone out there... You put on the armor! Smart move... Hans Olo? You have _got_ to be kidding me! _I'm _Han Solo, _you're_ Luke Skywalker! Well, except for that time back in '69 when I said _I_ was Luke... Right, of course she wasn't on a rescue mission... Gliders? Tough luck... Good thing for that armor... Oh, she has _got_ to be kidding... Carried her to the bridge? You _caveman_, you!"

The phone rang again. "Yes, Daniel, I'm almost finished. Or should I say 'Mister Olo'? You know, you really _didn't_ have to go into so much detail on this report. Security footage? Now what makes you think I would request the _Prometheus'_ security foot--that snitch. Walter is _so_ going to hear from me. Yeah, meet you there... Hans."

Jack didn't read any of the rest of the file aloud, but The Fly had heard enough to put together a puzzling picture of behavior. Hadn't his great-grandfather told his grandfather who told his father who told _him_ that Doctor Jackson was a kind, decent man, both caring and generous and possessing numerous bits of discarded coffee grinds and candy wrappers in his wastebasket? The picture painted by this report--or at least Jack's commentary on it--portrayed him as a territorial, aggressive male of obvious cunning and sexual prowess.

Between that and his twin-faceted eyes, he'd have made a decent fly, had he wings! The Fly buzzed happily to himself as he returned to his favorite perch on the wall, aware that Jack was now leaving the office for the place where all the lovely food smells were generated. It was tempting to hitch a ride on the general's shoulder, but also very dangerous to stay still for so long and easy to get lost in this base. Besides, he was The-Fly-on-the-Wall-in-the-General's-Office, leaving what was sure to be a very interesting discussion to The-Fly-on-the-Wall-in-the-Mess-Hall.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

This is what I get for reviewing other people's 'fics... and what they get for _replying_ to my review! And what I get for replying to their reply, and them replying back again. Vicious cycle, folks! It's even faster than the life-cycle of a housefly (which typically live two to four weeks, in case you were curious).

Ah, now comes the question, is this a one-shot? Well, that depends on Sorrel Rowan...


End file.
